Snowed In
by ryagelle
Summary: A blizzard strands Ratchet and the Lamborghini Twins in the mountains, with unexpected results. December contest winner on LiveJournal, G1, slash, unrelated to TtH or CC. It all belongs to HasTak, and I make no profit from it. Here ya go, whiner. XD


A/N: This fic was the winner of the December contest, That S'no Fun, at the mechaerotica livejournal community. I had not originally intended to post it here, but whiner asked, and so she shall receive. So consider this a gift fic to her. XD

EDIT 2/7/08: Made some minor corrections as suggested by Carmilla. Thanks for pointing them out!

* * *

It was cold.

Cold, and wet, and nasty—and Sunstreaker was thoroughly Not Happy. There was salt in places he didn't even want to think about from the copious amounts of the substance that the humans had dumped on the roads, and he was _still_ having trouble finding traction on the slippery asphalt. He flinched involuntarily and snarled "Watch the paint!" as Sideswipe came skidding by in a red blur, flat sideways and seemingly out of control as he just nicked his brother.

"C'mon, Sunshine, this is awesome!" Sideswipe called gleefully from within the snow bank he'd drifted into.

"You left a red streak on me, you useless lump of scrap!" Sunstreaker snapped back sulkily. "And don't fragging call me Sunshine!"

For a moment the only answer was the whining sound of tires spinning uselessly in the snow; then the red Lamborghini said sheepishly, "I think I'm stuck." Sunstreaker snorted.

"Serves you right."

"Hey, aren't you gonna help me?"

"Nope."

"But Sunny…!"

"Did you stop to think that you could transform, idiot?" the yellow twin demanded, skirting carefully around the pile of snow that his brother was entombed in.

A pause, then, in a small voice, "Oh." There was the distinct sound of a transformation sequence, and the red mech dug himself out of the snowdrift. He stood on the road for a few minutes, shaking the white powder out of his armor, and then changed back into his alt mode only to go sliding past his brother once again, whooping happily. Sunstreaker sighed—would he never learn?

This time Sideswipe came to a halt facing his twin on the roadway, forcing Sunstreaker to do some creative driving to avoid hitting him. Suddenly Sideswipe interrupted his brother's stream of invective with "Hey, where's Ratchet? He's the whole reason we're out here—"

"I'm way back here," a gravelly voice grumbled, and the white ambulance came trundling through the snow and slush, finally able to catch up while the two warriors sat still for a few minutes. "You two hooligans have left me behind _again_," he growled, and if ambulances could glare, Ratchet would have been doing so.

"It wasn't _our_ idea to make a supply run to Portland in the middle of a snowstorm," Sunstreaker complained.

"It's not my idea of fun, either, Sunstreaker, but we need these parts very badly in the medbay," the medic retorted, and Sunstreaker subsided, muttering to himself in annoyance. "Besides, it wasn't snowing when we started out."

"Yeah, but why did _we_ get picked to escort you out there and back?" Sideswipe whined, spinning his tires to accentuate his aggravation.

"You were sent because you're capable of handling a couple of Decepticons without much problem, and in the hopes that it would keep you out of trouble," Ratchet replied dryly. "Obviously it is not working on the second count. We're supposed to stay within sight of one another, remember?" He carefully drove past the two Lamborghinis, struggling to keep from sliding around on the icy road. He was glad that his alt-mode was not a low-slung, rear-wheel-drive sports car like the twins'; they had been sliding and fishtailing all over the place since the storm began.

"You were in sensor range," Sunstreaker said defensively, and Ratchet made a derisive sound, but didn't say anything.

"You know, I don't know if we're gonna be able to make it up the mountain in this. It looks like it's getting worse," Sideswipe commented, transforming and peering out through the thickening snowfall.

"Primus—that's all we'd need, to get stuck out here," Sunstreaker said unhappily. "I've got salt in my—"

"We're well aware of everywhere you've got salt at, Sunny," Sideswipe interrupted. "We've been hearing about it for the last hour," he added sourly.

"But it'll _rust_!" the golden warrior complained petulantly, and Ratchet snorted.

"A trip through the washracks and you'll be fine, you big sparkling," the medic told him, sounding almost amused.

Sunstreaker pouted for a while after that, and they drove in silence for the next hour, save for the occasional curse as one of them slipped. Sideswipe had even stopped playing his bizarre game of sliding out of control through the snow, since they were getting up into the mountains and a misstep could send him tumbling down the slope.

The higher they went, the worse the conditions became.

Sideswipe began swearing fluently from his position at the front of their little line, and both Sunstreaker and Ratchet transformed and walked up to him to see what had upset him so.

"Primus," Ratchet muttered, staring in dismay at the enormous pile of tree and rock and snow that lay across the road while the twins cursed roundly.

"Well," Sideswipe said wearily, once he had finished swearing a blue streak, "This is fragging _peachy keen_. I can't get through to command because of the storm, it's too big to dig through, too unstable to climb over, my piledrivers will probably bring the whole thing down on us, and the cliff makes it impossible to go around, so I guess it's back down we go," and he transformed into his primary mode and started trudging back down the mountain.

"I saw a cave not too far away, at the back of a little flat clearing," Ratchet offered. "We'll at least be warm and dry."

"Yeah, I remember it," Sideswipe replied thoughtfully. "We'll make for it, then." Sunstreaker stayed silent and just followed his brother.

They soldiered on for a while, walking down the mountain because to drive down would have been suicide. It took a lot longer than they had thought to get down to the little cave, and for a moment they thought that perhaps they had lost it in the white-out and that they were going to be forced to spend the duration of the storm out in the elements. Eventually, however, the little clearing spilled out in a fan of white at their feet, and Ratchet thought that he would faint from happiness when he saw the smudge of dark at the far end of it that indicated the cave's mouth.

"Man, am I glad to see that," Sideswipe moaned, echoing the medic's thoughts, and they eagerly hurried into the cave, though they made sure to scan the interior first for biological life-signs; no one wanted to repeat Trailbreaker's experience with the skunk.

The inside of the cave was blessedly skunk-free—not to mention dry and warmer than the outside air. That wind could cut through armor like an energy blade, and they were grateful for its lack within the walls of their little sanctuary.

The entrance to the cave was actually very short and curved sharply around to lead into the main chamber, which effectively kept the storm outside. They could not have found a more perfect shelter from a blizzard, and the heat that their bodies generated was already beginning to warm the small space.

"Well, now what?" Sideswipe asked of no one in particular, and both of his companions just looked at him blankly.

"What do you mean?" Ratchet asked irritably, shifting to get a little more comfortable where he'd sat down against the cave wall.

"He means," Sunstreaker interjected dryly, speaking in something other than a curse for the first time in hours, "that he's bored out of his processor and wants someone to entertain him."

"I'm not entertaining him," Ratchet huffed, crossing his arms over his windshield and looking away. Sunstreaker just shrugged and sat down next to the medic, making Ratchet uncomfortable when he curled up against him.

"What are you doing?" Ratchet demanded, staring at Sunstreaker incredulously.

"You're warm," the yellow mech replied contentedly, gazing at the CMO with sleepy optics. "And Sideswipe won't sit still long enough to lean up against him." Sideswipe _was_ fidgeting and pacing as much as the little chamber would allow, prompting Ratchet to snap at him to _sit down_. Sideswipe did so with ill grace, flopping down on the medic's other side with a little _huff_ of air through his vents.

"Sunny's right," Sideswipe murmured, sounding surprised as he snuggled into the twitching medic himself. "You _are_ very warm."

"That doesn't give you the right to… to… treat me like some kind of pillow!" Ratchet protested, though he didn't force the twins to get up.

"Reckon they're out lookin' for us?" Sideswipe asked, ignoring the medic's words in favor of huddling up closer to the warmth of his frame.

"In this?" Sunstreaker asked disdainfully. "Doubtful."

Despite himself, Ratchet began to relax as the heat of the bodies pressed to either side began soak in, alleviating the chill that had penetrated his armor. "They'll probably organize a search when the storm's passed and the Aerialbots and Skyfire can fly. Ain't gonna be anything with wheels moving on the roads when this is done," he murmured drowsily, letting his head loll back against the wall.

He hadn't realized that he had slipped into recharge until he became aware of the delicious feeling of someone gently stroking his wiring through a transformation seam on his side. For a moment he thought he was dreaming—until he was jolted fully awake by the sound of a needy whimper leaving his own vocalizer, and his optics flew open to see Sideswipe crouched over him with one knee between his own, intently watching his reactions while his brother observed with optics rapidly darkening with what was unmistakably desire.

"W-what are you doing?" Ratchet stammered, gaping up at the black-framed gray face hovering so close to his own that he could feel the other mech's 'breath' whispering out of his vents.

Sideswipe made a shushing motion, placing a single finger against the white lips. "Hush. I'm conducting an experiment." He paused, then, grinning, added, "Also, I'm bored." Ratchet didn't have time to be furious at this flippant response, because Sideswipe immediately renewed his attentions to the medic's wiring with a vengeance, and he couldn't help but give a little gasping moan as black hands ran over his sensitized components.

"W-w-what experiment?" Ratchet managed, panting to try and calm his racing systems while Sideswipe did all sorts of wonderful things to a sensor node he'd found.

"Oh, just putting to rest some rumors, is all," the red Lamborghini said, smiling mischievously.

Ratchet shuddered when Sunstreaker joined the conversation by breathing into his audio, "Everyone thinks that you're impossible to seduce, but that you'd be a Pit of a lay if it could be done," and he gently nipped the medic's auditory sensor. The yellow twin's words didn't really register in Ratchet's CPU; just the purring tone and the tender nip followed by lips trailing down the side of his head to nibble on his neck cables. "We want to find out if it's true, and now's as good a time as ever," he added, carefully scraping his denta across the medic's neck while Ratchet writhed at the sensation.

Somehow, Ratchet managed to push them away enough to somewhat recover his senses. "What makes you think you can just—just—" He faltered for a moment, refusing to look at the twins. "I'm not that kind of mech, to just interface with someone and then forget about it," he whispered softly. His optics flashed up to glare at his would-be lovers. "And everything I've heard about you claims you're the exact opposite."

The two brothers shared a look; Ratchet got the feeling that they were conferring about something in a way that he couldn't pick up on.

"We're not completely sparkless, Ratch—and we're not whores, no matter what everyone else might think," Sideswipe said seriously, sitting back on his haunches a little. "If you need a commitment, we'll give it to you."

"We've been thinking about this for a long time," Sunstreaker added, still idly stroking the CMO's arm. "This is just the first time we've been able to catch you alone."

"You… have?" Ratchet gaped at them. "Why?"

"Why you?" Sideswipe asked softly, and when Ratchet nodded, he said, "Because you care—even when you're mad at us, you care. There are not many mechs I can say that about, especially when it comes to Sunny." He leaned in close again and breathed, "Please let us love you," and pressed a kiss to the medic's trembling lips.

"A-alright," Ratchet gasped once the kiss was broken, and suddenly both brothers were closer than skin to him, bodies pressed against his and hands roving over his frame. Hesitantly, he reached out to reciprocate—Primus, it had been _so long_—and was encouraged by the needy little sound that came out of Sideswipe's vocalizer. He stroked one hand across Sunstreaker's armor and delved beneath the golden hood that covered his chest, feeling his own intakes hitch when the yellow Lamborghini gasped.

"_I need you,_" Sideswipe hissed, and his clever fingers popped open the access panel over one of Ratchet's data ports; the medic emitted a hiss of his own as the red twin pulled a cable from beneath a panel in his side and plugged into it, and he writhed as their systems synchronized over the link. He was vaguely aware of Sunstreaker pulling Ratchet's own interface cable out of its protective casing and connecting it to a data port beneath the yellow armor, but the golden Lamborghini's presence in the loop washed over him in a flood that he couldn't miss when the connection was complete.

The echo effect that he got from having both twins hardlinked into his systems was unlike anything he'd ever felt before; he cried out as feedback from what his lovers were feeling surged through his CPU. He could feel the brothers' pleasure building of a pace with his own, and knew that it wouldn't be long before he succumbed to it and overloaded.

He was somehow lying on his side face to face with Sunstreaker, wrapped firmly in the yellow 'Bot's arms while Sideswipe pressed up against his back, laving kisses on his neck and shoulders. On impulse, he kissed Sunstreaker hard, and was rewarded with a surge through his circuits and a breathy whine from the yellow twin. Sensing how close the medic was to the edge, Sideswipe deliberately copied his brother's surge, and Ratchet shrieked as his systems hit peak and warnings flashed across his visuals; pleasure flooded his entire body and he bucked between his lovers, crying out again when he felt his overload trigger theirs and that incredible echo ghosted through him. It was several long moments before his systems reset and he became able to think again, and the first thing that floated through his CPU was _I can't believe I just did that._

He was reminded that being linked into another's systems like this was as close as any bond when a warm, pleased chuckle answered his thought, both as sound in his audios and as a data stream across the link, and he shivered a little at the aftershocks that it sent through him. His arms tightened almost involuntarily around Sunstreaker, and he buried his face in the yellow 'Bot's shoulder while Sideswipe continued to stroke his sides and lay gentle kisses on the back of his neck. Sunstreaker nudged his face up with a hand under his chin and pressed their lips together in a kiss that was probably as tender as the yellow twin ever got—it was still fierce, and thorough enough that the medic was panting for air at the end of it. This second stirring of arousal was doused, however, as lethargy crept over him in a sleepy wave—he'd expended a great deal of energy both in the trek through the snowstorm and during their lovemaking.

_Rest,_ came the whispered suggestion through the link, and Ratchet couldn't help but obey as exhaustion sucked him under.

* * *

Sunstreaker watched his brother with half-shuttered optics when Sideswipe disconnected himself from the medic and stood to stretch the kinks out of his frame. The yellow 'Bot rolled onto his back, taking Ratchet with him to lie draped across his chest, and tracked Sideswipe with his gaze as the red mech padded to the entrance of the cave and checked the weather. He sent a wordless question through the bond he shared with his twin, and Sideswipe shook his head as he ducked back into the small chamber; it was still snowing heavily, apparently. 

"Not that it matters," Sunstreaker murmured, caressing the white cheek of the recharging mech currently using his shoulder as a pillow.

"Worn out, isn't he?" Sideswipe asked quietly, stretching out his own fingers to trail across the curve of Ratchet's helm.

The yellow twin made a soft noise of agreement. "I think he's not getting nearly as much rest as he lets everyone think," he said grimly.

"It wouldn't surprise me," Sideswipe replied. "He works too hard."

"Stop talkin' 'bout me," Ratchet mumbled suddenly, and Sideswipe yelped in surprise while Sunstreaker laughed.

"Fragger," the red twin said accusingly. "You knew he was awake."

"Of course," Sunstreaker chuckled, indicating the cable still connecting him to the medic. "But it was _your_ yappy aft that woke him up. You should go back into recharge—it's still snowing, and we're not going anywhere." He directed the last at Ratchet.

"How long was I out?" Ratchet asked, ignoring Sunstreaker's 'advice' and sitting up. They both winced when the ambulance accidentally yanked on the cable still linking him to the yellow 'Bot, and Sunstreaker silenced his embarrassed apologies with a kiss as he carefully unhooked the slender cord, which he coiled back into its compartment with a comforting pat.

"You're very mellow right now," Ratchet said in a dazed tone once Sunstreaker pulled away, and the yellow warrior smiled a Mona Lisa smile.

"The rumors were true," he replied enigmatically, optics bright, and when Ratchet realized what the Lamborghini was talking about, he was very glad he wasn't human—else his face would have been as red as his hands from mortification.

"Aww, lookit, Sunny, you've embarrassed him," Sideswipe cooed, settling down to wrap his arms around the medic from behind and laying his cheek against the older mech's shoulder.

"Shut up," Ratchet muttered, twitching nervously.

"We all should really get some rest," Sideswipe murmured, optics dimming tiredly. "It looked like it would be a while before this blizzard blows itself out. It'll probably be morning before we can make any headway toward home. Oh, and to answer your question, Ratch, you were offline for maybe half an hour—not long enough to do you any good."

"So come on and lay back down with me," Sunstreaker urged, tugging at the white mech's arm and pulling him down to the floor beside him. Sideswipe let himself be pulled along, and he snuggled up closer to Ratchet's back once they were all lying down.

There were a few moments of uncomfortable silence, and then Sideswipe whined teasingly, "I'm jealous—how come _he_ gets to be in the middle where it's warm?"

"'Cause I'd rather cuddle with a pit viper than you, bit-brain," his brother retorted acidly.

"Aw, now that was low, bro," Sideswipe complained, burrowing his face a little deeper into the medic's shoulder. "And here I was thinking you were my favorite brother, too."

"I'm your _only_ brother, idiot."

Ratchet couldn't help but snicker at them; who knew they were like this with each other when no one else was watching?

Sunstreaker smiled a secret, pleased smile at the sound of their lover's laughter—it seemed like they didn't get to hear it nearly as often as they used to.

The war had worn at them all.

When the twins first joined the crew of the Ark, they had been warned about their new CMO's deadly accurate aim with whatever he happened to have handy in the medbay and his low tolerance for foolish injuries, but they had also heard that he was good-natured and kind, and that he loved a good time. As the war dragged on, however, they had noticed that he smiled less and grumbled more; they became worried that the strain of keeping everyone in one piece would bury him and he would completely forget what it was like to have fun.

And then Sideswipe had decided that what the medic really needed was a good lay. He had quickly deduced that Ratchet wasn't seeing anyone—wasn't even interested in anyone—so he had tried to play Sideswipe the Matchmaker.

It had failed miserably. It did not take long to come to the conclusion that no one on the Ark was brave enough to try to seduce the Hatchet, the cowards, even though rumors ran rampant about how skilled he would be, with his intimate knowledge of each of their bodies; he put them back together on a regular basis, after all. Surely that had to count for something, didn't it? Plus, he was a medic, the best medic on Cybertron, and weren't medics as a general rule coveted as partners for their dexterous hands and training in Cybertronian physiology?

"Why don't one of you do it yourself, if it's that important to you?" someone had suggested rudely, and Sideswipe had realized that he'd had something that Spike called 'a blonde moment'. (It was an apparently derogatory comment that the little human usually made after someone had said or done something really stupid, and Sideswipe had to admit that he felt pretty damn stupid right about then.)

Of _course_ he could do it himself—and wouldn't it be so much more fun that way, after all?

So he had dragged Sunstreaker into the whole mess, and somehow they had all ended up right here, stranded in a cave by a blizzard with no hope of getting home until the storm passed, and having just had what could quite possibly be classified as the best bout of interfacing he had ever had in his _life_.

Sunstreaker felt undeniably content.

He felt an answering wave of contentedness from his brother, and grinned when he glanced over to see Ratchet deep in recharge, optics dark and a slight smile quirking the corners of his mouth.

_Time to sleep,_ Sideswipe sent in a wordless burst of data through their shared spark, and Sunstreaker nodded agreement. He dipped his head to rest atop the medic's, avoiding the pointed tips of the gray chevron, and initiated his own recharge cycle. He was out in moments.

* * *

Ratchet was jerked out of recharge when Sideswipe stuffed a fistful of shockingly cold snow underneath the armor on his back. His flailing and swearing woke Sunstreaker, who leaped on his wildly laughing brother with the intent to maim shining in his optics. The medic suspected that the only reason he managed to separate the two was because they let him, even though Ratchet was certainly no weakling. 

"Storm's gone! Come and look outside!" Sideswipe announced with far too much cheer for this ungodly hour of the morning, and dragged both of them toward the entrance despite their protests.

"Did you happen to call command?" Sunstreaker asked coolly, glaring at his brother.

"Of course," Sideswipe snorted in reply. "They'll be here in a few minutes. Come outside and play with me before they come!" and he pulled them into the clearing.

"_Play?_" Sunstreaker asked incredulously under his breath. Ratchet just shook his head ruefully—then did a double take at the view that greeted them when they stepped out.

Snow coated the ground in a glittering white blanket, nearly blinding in its reflective brilliance. It was very deep; some of the taller drifts came nearly halfway up their shins. It was, quite frankly, beautiful, and Ratchet suddenly felt a sense of appreciation for this little organic world that they were stuck on.

"Snowball fight!" Sideswipe shouted happily, and Ratchet suddenly had a face full of hard-packed snow.

The medic scowled, and for a moment entertained serious thoughts of just mauling the capering red mech. When Sunstreaker joined in his brother's snowball fight, however, something within him softened at the sight of the pair just playing, letting all of their cares slip away, and he bent down to get himself a nice, big double fistful of the white fluff and packed it into a ball. He took aim, drew back, flung it forward—and nailed Sideswipe right in the head.

The game was on.

That was how the Aerialbots found them, snowballs and insults flying thick through the air in a three-way free-for-all that was showing no signs of slowing down. They were just in time to see Sideswipe peek out from behind a boulder after ducking a snowball from his brother, crying gleefully, "Hey, Laser Lips! Your Mama was a snowblower!" Unnoticed by the three combatants, the gestalt team transformed out of their alt modes and touched down lightly. They looked at the battle going on, then as one, Air Raid, Fireflight, Slingshot, and Skydive turned to Silverbolt with hopeful expressions.

"Oh, all right—just for a few minutes," the Aerialbot commander said in amused exasperation, and the four leaped into the fray with whooping battle cries.

The Lamborghinis and the medic recovered from their surprise quickly enough, and managed to present a united front to their new attackers.

"Does he _never miss?_" Skydive demanded, glaring at a cackling Ratchet after having to spit out snow for the fourth or fifth time.

"Not often!" Sideswipe called out in a singsong voice, apparently hearing the comment. "And guess what? He's on _my_ team, and you can't have him!" the red Lamborghini added in a taunting tone.

"Yeah—but _you're_ outnumbered!" Slingshot jeered, firing off another packed white projectile.

"So? _We_ appear to be winning!" Sunstreaker shot back, and all you could see of him was the top of his head and his optics as he chanced a look over the rock he was crouched behind. He nearly received a face full of snow for his trouble, and chortled when it impacted harmlessly on the rock.

The sound of jet engines had them all looking to the sky, but they relaxed when they recognized the large white form of Skyfire making his way toward them.

"But how do you decide who's winning?" Fireflight asked curiously, and got pelted from three directions as a result.

"It's completely arbitrary," Sideswipe replied. "Besides, you guys are the ones getting hit the most," he pointed out, and he nailed Fireflight again for good measure, then they were forced to call a temporary truce as Skyfire landed.

Optimus Prime looked distinctly amused as he, along with Prowl and Wheeljack, exited Skyfire's cargo bay so that the large white scientist could transform. "I take it that you three are fine," he commented, arching an optic ridge at them.

"Oh, we're just peachy," Sideswipe quipped, stepping out of cover. He was immediately attacked, snowballs flying from every direction. "Hey, hey, wait! I thought we had a truce!" he spluttered, ducking back behind his rock.

"But you were wide open—and it was so hard to resist," Air Raid called gleefully, cackling at the red Lamborghini's indignation.

Wheeljack scowled and crossed his arms, fins flashing irritably. "You mean to tell me that we've been worried to death about you, and you've been out here playing in the snow?" The inventor directed his glare mostly at Ratchet.

"Uh… yes?" Ratchet hazarded, and nearly snickered when his friend twitched in annoyance.

"Prime?" Skyfire interrupted politely, and all optics turned to him. "Blaster has just informed me that he is tracking another snowstorm heading our direction. We should probably be getting back," he suggested, respectfully inclining his head toward his leader.

Optimus nodded. "Alright, everyone—time to head home," he said. Skyfire and the Aerialbots transformed into their vehicle modes, and the combiner team took to the skies while Skyfire patiently waited for their ground-bound companions to board. Once he was sure they were secure inside his cargo bay, he took off himself, setting his course for the Ark.

* * *

It was several days before the twins approached him again; Ratchet had begun to wonder if he had been had—literally. He tried to convince himself that they had just not had time between duty cycles to come see him, but he knew from prior experience with the two Lamborghinis that they would skip a recharge cycle for something that was important to them. 

Which was why it completely floored him to walk into his quarters to see them unpacking their things.

"Sorry it took us so long," Sideswipe said casually over his shoulder, not pausing in digging through a box he had set on the 'charge pad. "It took us a while to pack."

"To…to… What?" He asked, flabbergasted, and, just as casual as his brother, Sunstreaker sauntered up to him and kissed him thoroughly in greeting before going back to rummaging through his belongings, as though this were an everyday occurrence.

"But…I thought…" Ratchet stammered, still standing in the doorway.

"You thought that we lied to you?" Sunstreaker asked quietly, going back to him, drawing him into the room and into his arms. "That we just wanted a quick lay and you fell for it?" He tightened his embrace, smiling a little when the medic hesitantly returned it.

Ratchet jumped a little when Sideswipe laid a hand on his back. "We meant every word, Ratch. We've never made an offer of anything but a one night stand to anyone but you. Will you have us?"

"I…suppose it would be cruel to make you pack all of this back up," Ratchet murmured, laying his head on Sunstreaker's shoulder.

"Very cruel," Sunstreaker agreed, resting his cheek against the medic's.

"It would break our poor little sparks, it would," Sideswipe added, hugging him from behind.

"Then—then stay…" The CMO's lips quirked in a smile. "I certainly wouldn't want to have the reputation of leaving you sparkbroken."

"Good!" Sideswipe declared, sounding satisfied with himself. "Now, there's still enough snow on the ground—what say we go hand those Aerialbots their tailfins?"

Ratchet gave a bark of laughter and followed his new lovers outside.


End file.
